


Surveillance

by astrangerenters



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: F/M, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-14
Updated: 2012-02-14
Packaged: 2017-10-31 06:29:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/340980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrangerenters/pseuds/astrangerenters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not ones to be outdone by amateurs, the Turks were in on the action.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surveillance

**Author's Note:**

> For the Final Fantasy Kissing Battle 2012 @ Dreamwidth. A request for the Turks as bounty hunters of a sort.

"He'd be really stupid to come back to Midgar, Reno."

Reno's voice came blaring back in her earpiece, a shrill shrieking sound accompanying it. They really needed to get some newer equipment. Didn't the Turks deserve the best? "Well when _you_ run an op then you can decide where we go on a stakeout. But since the chance of you running an op is less likely than Tseng popping out of the cake at Rufus Shinra's next birthday party, shut your mouth."

Elena sulked.

A stakeout could be fun, but most times it really wasn't. Some jerk had stolen top secret files from one of the Shinra labs and would allegedly be selling the data to the highest bidder in the next few days. Though it seemed like a piece of cake for the Turks, Hojo had bitched loud enough to get the company to open the investigation up to anyone. The bounty itself was more than Elena would make in the next ten years. The data was apparently so precious that the speed of its return was more important than the quality of those sent to retrieve it.

Not ones to be outdone by amateurs, the Turks were in on the action, though the obvious misstep had been putting Reno in charge. He had intel that Mr. File Thief was a regular patron of the Honey Bee Inn and would be meeting a potential buyer that evening. Though in Elena's experience, Reno's "intel" was usually something he overheard in the elevator or the men's room and then claimed was the result of his sleuthing skills.

Reno was parked across the street from the Honey Bee Inn, eyes on the front entrance while he waited inside the ice cream truck (also his idea as team leader). She and Rude were on point, loitering in the street in case Mr. File Thief came out. Of course, Rude, being Rude, had come in his Turks uniform and stood out like a sore thumb while Elena had at least tried to look neighborhood-appropriate in her red blouse and black miniskirt.

"He's probably in Costa del Sol by now," she grumbled, trying to ignore how stupid the ice cream truck looked across the street. Of all the vehicles to pick...

Rude merely stood stock still, the only evidence he was still alive being the occasional tilt of his head as he observed people coming and going.

"He's probably a member of the bathtub club in there," Reno grumbled back, "so just be patient. He'll come out of there sooner or later."

Minutes passed, and Elena was really regretting her dedication to blending in. Her Turks suit and sensible shoes would be much better than the pumps she'd worn. Maybe Rude had had the right idea after all. She sometimes wondered what went on inside that shiny, bald head of his. Reno was always talking, so it wasn't like Rude ever had much to say. He was good at his job though, and Elena respected him for it. She knew that he'd never think of running a stakeout from an ice cream truck at least.

"Okay," Reno finally said, "got a match. Green jacket, just came out."

"Green jacket." Rude had his finger to his earpiece and was already on the move. "In pursuit."

Elena hadn't even seen the guy, and Rude was already halfway down the street after him. "Ah, damn it," she complained under her breath, trying to hurry up after Rude while the ice cream truck roared to life across the street. The only benefit to the truck now would be if this really was the guy and they could shove him inside with the rocky road and chocolate vanilla swirl.

"Move your ass, Elena!" her earpiece screeched.

She nearly stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk, leaving the blaring music and neon lights of the Honey Bee Inn behind as she followed Rude through the narrow, twisting streets of the Wall Market. Reno wasn't going to have much luck driving around, but that was his problem. She finally caught up, falling into step beside Rude. Well, a Turk and a girl in a miniskirt didn't make much sense separately in this neighborhood so she slunk her arm through his and held on as best she could.

If Rude disapproved of her tactics, he didn't say anything. But he did slow a bit, far more the gentleman than the red haired jerk in the ice cream truck. The guy in the green jacket was walking at a decent enough pace, and he had on a cap, so she couldn't tell if he matched the perp's description or not. Reno had had binoculars in the truck, so they had to trust his judgment for now.

It was odd tracking someone out of her uniform. She was almost a bounty hunter herself, though she quickly chastised herself for the thought. She was a member of the Turks, after all. Bounty hunters were a gil a dozen.

The mark turned the corner, and Rude slowed again, wrapping his arm around her. She began to feel a little odd, surprised by the ease of the transition, almost as though Rude did this all the time. They turned the corner, too, and the man in the green jacket had stopped to light a cigarette. He was looking right back at them.

"Been made," was all Rude whispered before pulling her close and bending down. Her first instinct, her Turks instinct, was to slug him, but then he was kissing her. Rude, bald Rude who got by on fifteen to twenty words a day tops, was kissing her, hand on her ass like some sleazeball and yet...

"What do you mean you've been made?! Rude?"

"Rude, report!"

"I'm stuck behind a...hey, beat it, kid. Isn't it past your bedtime? I'm closed!"

"Rude, seriously. Is green jacket our perp? Rude!"

"Get out of the god damn...oh son of a bitch, flipping ice cream truck, how do I turn the music off?"

"...Elena?"

She finally yanked the damn thing out of her ear and wrapped her arms around her fellow Turk's neck, deciding to go with the flow. If they wanted to convince the guy they were tailing that they were just a random lovey dovey couple, it was her duty to be believable, right? She wasn't doing it because Rude was surprisingly the best kisser ever...

Then there were footsteps, and Elena imagined that green jacket was moving on. Rude let her go, their lips parting with a pop, and he adjusted his sunglasses. She couldn't see his eyes, couldn't tell if he was amused or happy or turned on or anything.

Instead he put his finger to the earpiece. "Green jacket was not our perp. Repeat. Not our perp."

And with that he turned around just as the noisy ice cream truck came hurtling down the narrow street, obnoxious music cranked all the way up.

"Wait a second!" she called after Rude, shouting to be heard over the music. "If you knew from the second he made us that he wasn't the guy..."

Reno honked the horn, oblivious to her distress. "Shut up, would ya? Let's go!"

... _then why did you kiss me_?, was what she wanted to ask him, but he was already in the truck.

"Come on already! We need to get back to the Honey Bee!" Reno screeched, and she hurried to enter their ridiculously conspicuous vehicle. Elena knew she was blushing from head to toe, but she'd have to wonder what Rude had been thinking later.

They still had bounty hunting to do.


End file.
